A Knight in Tan Khaki
by eponnia
Summary: E24 AU. In which James is more persistent, his conversation with Emma takes a downward spiral, and Alex intervenes. [EAverse Knighthouse one-shot]


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first **_**Emma Approved**_** fic, second fic for Jane Austen's various novels, and my first Knighthouse. I just love Alex and Emma. **

* * *

"You didn't strike me as a quitter, _senator_."

Emma saw James pause midway in standing.

"I guess I was wrong," she added, knowing it was unkind to add that jab, but not caring all that much.

An expression even more determined than before during the course of their argument came over his features, and he sat down again. As she met his stern gaze, she saw anger starting to cloud his face, but she refused to look away.

Emma Woodhouse did not back down.

"You're wrong," he said sternly. "I'm not a quitter. I didn't want to have to do this, but…"

She suddenly found his lips pressed against hers. Emma pulled away quickly, looking at him in shock. "Mr. Elton! I did not give you permission to–"

"Sometimes a push in the right direction is all it takes for someone to see the light," James said in a tone much quieter than hers, but it was far more unsettling than a shout. "Isn't that right, Miss Woodhouse?"

He kissed her hard again, gripping her upper arms tight enough to bruise and preventing her escape. She pulled away again, exclaiming, "Let me go, Mr. Elton!"

Her office door slammed open. "What the hell is going on?"

Emma looked away from James to see Alex in the doorway, hands balled into fists at his sides, looking for all the world as if he wanted to strangle the senator.

"Mr. Knightley, I can assure, this is not what it looks like–"

"I can see for myself," Alex interrupted firmly. "Let go of her."

James looked back at Emma and released his grip on her arms, shifting back. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, for once not caring that her lipstick would be smudged as he stood.

"Get out, Mr. Elton, or I'm calling the police."

James stepped away from Emma, looking at her for a moment, and walked past Alex, who gave him a look that was a mix of a death glare and utter disgust.

The moment the senator was out of sight, Emma turned away from the doorway, feeling tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, and she bit her lip.

"Emma?"

She looked up to see Alex still standing in the doorway of her office, a concerned expression on his features. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

Normally Emma would have declined his offer – she was a strong, independent woman who could take care of herself, after all. He was being noble and chivalrous and everything she thought she didn't need in a man.

But this was not a normal evening.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice catching.

Alex only nodded in response, not moving from his position in the doorway as she stood to gather her belongings. As she turned to face him, she pressed her fingertips to the edges of her eyes, trying to stop the tears threatening to fall. He said nothing, watching her carefully as she came to his side.

"Shall we go?" Emma asked quietly, her voice trembling uncharacteristically.

"Of course." He gestured to the doorway, and she stepped into the hall as he followed, shutting her office door behind them.

They walked in silence to his car. Emma looked at her silver Volvo as they passed it, and Alex broke the quiet. "If you don't want me to drive you..."

"No, it's fine." She was too emotional to get behind the wheel.

"Your car will be fine here. They have twenty-four hour security for the building."

"I know." Emma surprised herself at her passiveness. Alex said nothing in reply, only unlocking his car and opening the passenger door for her. Normally she would have told him that she was perfectly capable of opening a car door by herself, but Emma only gave him a grateful smile before sliding in.

She had already buckled her seatbelt and crossed her arms over her chest when Alex got into the driver's seat. Emma looked out the window as he pulled out of the parking spot, feeling more _stupid_, _stupid_ tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

Emma Woodhouse did not cry.

As they drove in silence, she finally looked at him out of the corner of her only to catch him looking at her. They both turned away quickly like nervous fourteen-year-olds. Kicking herself for being so immature, she unfolded her arms and made herself stop closing up. She physically stopping cowering, resting her left arm on the middle console and her right on the door handle. If spreading her body out helped her regain confidence, then she would do it.

She felt something brush her left hand, and looked over to see Alex quickly pulling his hand away. "Sorry," he muttered, keeping his gaze focused on the road.

Without a word, she reached out and curled her fingers around his wrist. "It's okay," she said, her voice betraying her in its soft volume. _Confidence, Emma. Where is your confidence?_

He glanced at her and then down at her hand on his wrist. Feeling bold, Emma pulled his arm to the middle console and slipped her hand into his.

Alex froze for a moment, dragging his gaze back to the road. She then wove her fingers through his, clasping his hand as if he was her anchor.

But he was, wasn't he? He was always there when she needed him. He provided reason – not that she usually followed his advice – and always, always supported her. Maybe not her decisions, but her. _Emma_. Not Emma Woodhouse, lifestyle coach. Not Miss Woodhouse, his boss. Just _Emma_, his long-time friend.

It was her turn to be surprised as Alex began to slowly, gently rub circles with his thumb into the back of her hand.

* * *

"Do you want me to walk you up?"

As they sat together in his car in the parking lot of her apartment, Emma almost declined, but bit her lip.

"That would be great. Thanks."

"No problem," Alex replied with a smile.

She bolstered up her confidence until they got to her door. Unlocking it, she felt a wave of emotion crash over her, and she pulled open the door harder than necessary. Not caring that Alex was seeing her at a low – he had seen everything else, she reasoned – she pulled off her five-inch heels at the door and went to her couch, sinking into it gratefully as she pulled her knees up to her chest. Emma sighed in frustration as more tears appeared, threatening to spill over, and she drew in a shaky breath.

"Do you need anything?"

Seeing him standing in the doorway, Emma almost ordered Alex away, assured him she was fine, convinced him that she was unaffected, but realized for one of the first times in her life, she was not okay with being alone. She didn't want to fix her problems by herself. She wanted someone to sympathize with, to support her.

She knew without a shadow of a doubt that Alex would do all of that.

"Could you sit with me?" Emma asked quietly, voice cracking again. She wiped away a tear as Alex came to the couch and took a seat beside her. He rested a hand on her back, his touch far more gentle than James ever was, and began running his hand up and down her spine, a concerned look on his features at her tears.

Emma leaned into Alex, resting her head on his shoulder, and finally gave in completely to her emotions.


End file.
